


Que c'est beau !

by shamebucket



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: CW: Lobelia, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Guro, Masturbation, Other, Resurrection, Sexual Content, Snuff, wound fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/pseuds/shamebucket
Summary: Look at the tags. For the love of God, look at the tags.
Relationships: Lobelia/The Tower (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24
Collections: Deadly Intent Exchange





	Que c'est beau !

**Author's Note:**

  * For [franchouchou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/franchouchou/gifts).



Lobelia coughs as life is forced back into him, his body complete again. The night sky shines brilliantly above him. In the desert, there is no light pollution. It is so quiet here, so peaceful. Nothing else exists in this expanse aside from The Tower. His heart pounds rapidly, tears forming in his eyes as he stares at the stars, innumerable. 

"Nggghahh!" This time, it starts at his thighs. He chews on his lip, groaning as a loud, hearty _SNAP!_ reverberates in the cold air. First, his left femur breaks - his pants warp as skin shifts. Lobelia pants, struggling to figure out what number this is. He can't remember. He can't even put a face to this death. - Then, the right. This one he took much less care with - his thighbone shatters, unclean. He howls, sharp pain exploding like buckshot through his leg. He tries to move, but he knows that he cannot run away. 

Not that he would want to. 

His tibias and fibias come next, smashed suddenly. Lobelia's toes curl as he lets out a deep, guttural moan, his fingers clutching at the sand beneath him. The stars above become murky and clouded through his tears, although he doesn't mind. Red flashes before his eyes. Dark and thick as blood, his vision wavers. The one constant Lobelia can always trust is his sense of sound. This he will always know to be true and reliable. 

How many times has he been through this? "A-ahhh!" he shouts, a vicious, invisible slash tearing open his robes and pants. It's not the only thing that is torn open. He whimpers, trembling, as he traces his fingers along the deep cut. His viscera spills from the wound as he pulls the shredded skin to the side. It drags along his skin, too hot but so wet, making a sound like mousse falling onto the floor as it slides out. 

"Mmmm!" His cock is rock hard, covered in his own blood. Hands shaking (partially from excitement, partially from loss of blood), he reaches inside of himself, squeezing his own innards. " _Oh_ ," he moans. The sounds his own body makes are the most beautiful he's ever heard - he pulls out foot after foot of intestine from inside himself, reveling in the sound of his own gruesome end. He thinks of the person who he killed this way, without a face, without a name - they must have been in pain, just as much as he's in now. He trembles with excitement. 

" _Ah, très bien!_ " he cries, reaching for his cock with his spare hand. He rubs his intestines against his own cheek as he jerks himself, allowing the sound of his own destruction to soak into his ears. What a beautiful sound this is! What a wonderful night! How magnificent it is to know this sensation, reliving it endlessly, in all its glorious permutations. His body is a never-ending symphony - The Tower, the conductor. Lobelia himself is both the composer and the orchestra. How glorious!

Pressure builds on his skull as he comes, white and red mingling in his hand, and then his skull shatters, piercing his brain. These few seconds of bliss are the last few things Lobelia registers. 

...

...

_**THWUMP.** _

Until they aren't, and Lobelia is whole again, perfect and unmarked. He shakes, joy coursing through him. There are too many for him to recall in perfect detail. Which conch will make its melody known to him next? 

"Ah, Tower, what a curious beast you are!" Lobelia cheers, and henceforth feels his vocal chords torn from his throat.

**Author's Note:**

> Free evolite when. Come home, Crunchy.


End file.
